


shadow in my brain

by liquidsky



Series: shared [3]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: M/M, Soulmates, Swimming Pools
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:35:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23496151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liquidsky/pseuds/liquidsky
Summary: "Your show, Harrington," Billy shrugs because he's here already, isn't he. Struggling out of the pretense that he wouldn't—won't—follow. He quirks an eyebrow at Steve, "Too chicken to go in?"
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: shared [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1679521
Comments: 7
Kudos: 58





	shadow in my brain

**Author's Note:**

> "we'll figure something out," they said. so figure something out they did!

"This is fucking stupid," Billy grumbles, shoving Steve to the side when he tries to pull him closer by the waist, handsy and too-warm despite the chilly air whistling around them. He's unimpressed, and horny, and Steve's palms are entitled-soft and pressing down against his flank. "What are you–"

He's shuffling closer, eyelids droopy and his weird, suspicious smile, saying, "Water's gonna be warmer than this."

"We'll get fucking–" and a huff, "Pneumonia or some shit. Let's–"

"Not going home," Steve insists, and Billy's helpless to watch him fling himself clumsily over the fence; he stretches languidly once he's afoot on the other side, so Billy's got no choice but to follow him. 

He's been here before—all by himself, too—but that didn't feel nearly as stupid as this does. Steve, pulling his sweater off right in one long, swooping move, the quiet slap of it against concrete followed by the tinkling sound of him unbuckling his belt. Soon enough he's left with—worn briefs only, pale fabric bunching over the soft curve of his dick. He shrugged out of his t-shirt too, and Billy feels his shiver resonate through his own body; Steve's excitement thudding like a second heartbeat under Billy's ribcage. 

Steve's turning around from him before he gets to say a thing, awareness an insistent pressure on his temple. He knows he's being watched, saunters to the edge of the water and sits down, feet splashing calmly. It's an obvious move; Billy hopes—knows—Steve can feel his frustration as he moves out of his jacket, first, then his shirt and pants until he's watching Steve watch him from over his shoulder, funny smile on, gaze tracing Billy's heavy thighs and pausing around his underwear. It slips into him, curls so bright-hot around that he's wondering whether it didn't come from him to start with. Steve looks back at the water, and Billy's caught by the expanse of his pale, freckled back. It's dark enough he has to squint to see him, though there's a moment when he thinks, crazily, that he doesn't _need_ to, imagines Steve's body a supple extension of his own. 

The floor's cold when he plops down next to Steve, stepping out of it, their elbows brushing, and Steve slants him a heavy look, glaringly obvious. "What d'you wanna do?"

"Your show, Harrington," Billy shrugs because he's here already, isn't he. Struggling out of the pretense that he wouldn't—won't—follow. He quirks an eyebrow at Steve, "Too chicken to go in?" 

"Not chicken," he says, "Just thinking." 

There's no real hesitancy for Billy to feel. A beat of blunt, hard silence emptying his mind instead, before Steve's breaching into his space and pushing their mouths together. It rushes to him, a rich upwelling of Steve's echoing want when he licks past Billy's lips insistently. Familiar taste of watermelon bubblegum and beer, a weird combination that Billy chases until all he's left with is the warm taste of _Steve_ , inartificial and slick on his tongue. No real measure applied to the possessive curl of Steve's hands around the back of Billy's arms, running his palms over skin again and again while Billy groans into his mouth. 

It's Steve who pulls away first, a line of spit stretching between them until his tongue darts out to lick his lips, and he's so flushed and heavy-lidded Billy just—he _looks_. Still looking when Steve shoves him forward into the pool, startling-cold so he shivers, shaking water out of his hair and gazing up to see Steve spread his legs, run a hand through the thickening hair closer to his groin. It goes up, up, then pressing down on his dick, a soft, low moan like a huff of breath as Billy meets his eyes. He walks closer, rests both hands on the edge and his chin on his hands. Feels it stretch and build inside him, a phantom weight on his own cock, and he feels it fattening up as Steve keeps it up, biting his lips now, dick starting to tent obscenely inside his briefs. Pulling at the fabric, growing wet, and Billy pushes forward on reflex, sighing around a groan when Steve massages the head, wet cotton clinging to blood-hot skin. He hisses, and Billy's just—"'m not doing it like this," he manages, even if it feels so fucking good he's lightheaded. 

Steve huffs out, "What?" and his eyes are widening, pupils blown huge, a confused crease on his forehead, "You–"

"Come on," Billy tells him, pulls him down by the ankles until Steve's sliding into cold water, shivering hard and tipping his head back. 

Billy grabs at his body, maneuvers easily until Steve's got both legs wrapped around him, and then he's pushing forward and trapping Steve against the wall, the hard line of his dick resting hot against Billy's stomach. He grinds forward so his swollen cock nudges Steve's sac; again and again, Steve's hands clutching the length of his hair, his legs going tighter on his hips. "Oh _fuck,_ " Steve sighs, voice sort of shot to hell, and Billy's lost in it, ridiculous loop of feeling-Steve-feeling him, the gorgeous line of Steve's throat made visible when he rests his head back on the edge of the pool and Billy latches on to the silky skin there, dragging his teeth, Steve shuddering and moving, too, trying to gain leverage to fuck his dick on Billy's abs, "Holy shit," he says, "I– _Billy,_ will you–"

"There you go," he breaths, warm on the shell of Steve's ear, hand pulling Steve's dick out of his briefs, running a palm over the head with too much force, catching on the slit. Steve moans, and the whole if it springs back to Billy, a hard press on his own cock, precome dribbling out, sticking to fabric and getting lost in the water. He bites out, "Like that, princess?" and Steve keens, head lolling forward to rest his forehead against Billy's, air pooling between their mouths, and he jacks him off tight, transfixed by the distorted picture of Steve's fat dick under water in his hand, feeling every stroke spiral back to him, grinding on Steve's taint and feeling that, too. He squeezes fingers right under Steve's swollen head, the hiss of his breath over Billy's mouth—"Can you tell?" he asks, not sounding like himself at all, eyes latched on how Steve's are falling shut, "Stevie, can–"

"Yeah," he bites out, out of it already, "Jesus _fuck,_ " and Billy stops, holding onto his dick but not moving, and Steve scrunches up his nose and shoves forward, twitching, "I'll let you, _Billy,_ okay, I'll let you, just–"

And he slides his fist up, tight, smirking against Steve's jaw and shaking too much himself before he's lowering his other hand to push his underwear down, then Steve's, fabric out of the way, and Billy's dick sliding over Steve's balls, further down, his skin so fucking hot there, even through the cold sloshing water, hot and smooth, soft smattering of hair that Billy wants to bury his face in. Water's a funny sort of friction, Billy's thinking, nothing going quite as slick as it should with how much he's dripping, with the way Steve's own cock keeps drooling over his fingers before everything's washed away. Steve's waiting for him, an impatient note to the way he's fucking forward, barely a prickle in the back of Billy's neck, but it's _something_ , so presses a finger to the very tip of Steve's cock, rubs it in. Echoing so easy when Steve bites at Billy's lower lip and grunts. 

It builds so fucking nicely, unlike anything he's ever felt now that they're stuck close together, awareness lodged up on their spines shocky-good and electric, both inevitable and a ridiculous, absurd _choice_ , with Steve tightening his thighs even more, hands gripping Billy's shoulders now, voice cracking on nothing, saying, " _Billy,_ " all whiny, a pitch Billy's never heard from Steve before, too high, "Make me come, _please,_ come on." 

Steve shudders, Billy thinking it's because he can feel the exact second of decision when Billy trails his fingers down past where his cock's pushing against Steve, barely-there resistance, and he's closing his fist over Steve's fat, aching cockhead and rubbing firm right as he shoves two fingers in, past the knuckle, curling, and Steve's crackling like lightning, body going taunt and arched, head falling back. Billy doesn't let up, feeling it spread like wildfire in every direction until he's gasping for breath against the line of Steve's shoulders, a back and forth pull where he can feel it in himself, ass clenching around nothing, balls tightening and cock spurting, coating Steve's taint for the shortest second before it washes away. It lasts impossibly, time skittering to a long, insane pause while Billy tries to catch his breath and fails, calves burning with how tense he's pulled, Steve huffing grunts and moans against the side of Billy's head until he stops shuddering and his body slumps heavily back. 

Billy glances up to find Steve looking almost shocked, cheeks bright pink and lips bitten red. Hair's all over the place too, sticking wet and messy to his forehead, so Billy lifts his hand to push it back. Still all caught up on each other, Billy's hands now cradling the back of Steve's thighs for all that he can barely stand on his feet himself. 

Steve blinks at him, molasses-slow, lids finally drooping, and Billy doesn't really want to hear whatever he'll say next, so he pushes two of his fingers past Steve's lips, watches him suck the chlorine away before he's tilting his head and groaning again, a heady slow-burn travelling up Billy's wrist. 

"You better have some towels in your car," Billy mutters, and Steve rolls his eyes, biting softly on his index finger. 

**Author's Note:**

> totally random note but 5sos have a new album out and the songs are all _so good_ and so incredibly horny. it's gold, really.
> 
> also! this is unbeta'd, so any and all typos are my own, sorry about that! comments and kudos are much appreciated, as always, and thank you very much for reading if you did! <3


End file.
